


Day 2

by snivellus (queervulcan)



Series: In Between [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Gen, Marijuana, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Severus Snape Lives, Songfic, Trans Character, Transgender Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queervulcan/pseuds/snivellus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Courtesy of http://sneepsnape.tumblr.com/post/148378073991/trans-snape-week-day-2</p>
    </blockquote>





	Day 2

**Author's Note:**

> Courtesy of http://sneepsnape.tumblr.com/post/148378073991/trans-snape-week-day-2

_Twenty-five years and my life is still_  
_Trying to get up that great big hill of hope_  
_For a destination_

Snape remembered what being twenty five and grieving had felt like. Back then, she had just replaced Slughorn. In those days, one day blended into another.

 _I realized quickly when I knew I should_  
_That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man  
_ _For whatever that means_

Her father taught her that she must be a man, in this era where dog eats the bunny, and she could not be a sissy. As an act of rebellion, she wore unflattering clothes so passerby's would call her ma'am and sweet pea.

It was worth the abuse to see her father turn as red as an apple.

 _And so I cry sometimes_  
_When I'm lying in bed just to get it all out_  
_What's in my head  
_ _And I, I am feeling a little peculiar_

From a young age, Snape knew that crying meant giving her father an advantage.

But when she did cry, she howled, she raged, she tore trees from their roots and made the wind whip and bend itself to her shape.

In those moments, she had power.

 _And so I wake in the morning_  
_And I step outside_  
_And I take a deep breath and I get real high_  
_And I scream from the top of my lungs_  
_What's going on?_

While other girls were getting their periods, Snape was getting facial hair and a deeper voice.

The deeper voice, she didn't mind so much. She was quite fond of her own voice.

She remembers one summer, back when discos were still a popular thing, when Lily and him had been friends, they had stolen some pot from the neighborhood boys, and Snape was real handy with talking circles and distractions.

As they had sat under their willow, pot smoked embers between them, they had reminisced about life and about their futures.

Finally, Snape couldn't hold it in anymore.

She had blurted, before she could stop herself, _"I'm a girl, Lily, a girl!"_

And Lily, her precious best friend, had just looked at her, nodded slowly, and smiled.

_"I know, silly Sev."_

_And I try, oh my god do I try  
_ _I try all the time, in this institution_

Trying to protect her students and her life on such a thin line had taken its toll on her health.

 _And I pray, oh my god do I pray_  
_I pray every single day  
_ _For a revolution_

Sometimes, the only thing that had gotten her out of bed twenty years ago, when the war was at its peak, was the knowledge that one day it would be over, or she would be dead.

 _Twenty-five years and my life is still_  
_Trying to get up that great big hill of hope  
_ _For a destination_

Even at sixty three, she still wakes up from nightmares sometimes. It's not as common as post war, but it's enough for her to know when she'll have bad days, good days, and days she refuses to leave her home.

Those days her hair frizzes out, when the grey tangle with black, and she can't bother to squeeze herself into her dresses, and even her lab sits quietly and gathers dust. Those are the days where she watches the sun dip over the fields she lives in, when the sun turns the ugly yellow wheat golden.

On her good days, she manages to drive to the nearest Muggle town, and revels in how no one spits at her, no one sneers, or even looks twice at her. For there, she is a stranger. Just a strange old lady who lives on the outskirts of town, but don't make her angry, because her bite is as bad as her bark.

Twenty five years after she was supposed to die, and she lives for every moment that she didn't.


End file.
